


have given their hearts up to the play

by koroshiyas (lucitae)



Series: never give all the heart, for love [4]
Category: Wanna One (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Actors, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-28
Updated: 2017-12-28
Packaged: 2019-02-17 07:54:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13072491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lucitae/pseuds/koroshiyas
Summary: "I only ever wanted you," he whispers. The words he uttered hangs in the air long after he falls asleep, burning at the back of his mind.Seongwoo has never had trouble separating work from life before this. The trouble is this time he can't quite find it in himself to let go of Minhyun so easily as he had in the past.





	have given their hearts up to the play

**Author's Note:**

> Based on this prompt:
> 
> Actors au; wherein minhyun plays the role of a ghost who keeps haunting his lover after passing away in a car accident (including the lines in the summary because, clearly, my words are a pale comparison to OPs).

He parts the crowd easily, slipping through the spaces that are left between bodies swaying in tandem to the beat that plays overhead, a bright smile worn upon his face as he waves enthusiastically.

Seongwoo mirrors the smile.

“I’m not late am I?” Minhyun asks, followed by a light chuckle on his end.

“No,” Seongwoo says in return ignoring the hands on the clock that says otherwise.

“Happy Birthday,” Minhyun says softly, just audible enough for Seongwoo to hear, holding out a simple lacquer box in the palm of his hand.

Seongwoo reaches forward and stills. There’s something translucent about him. The guy to his left has been staring at him oddly for the last minute or so. The black box stains with a dark red.

He clenches his teeth. “You’re not really here are you?” looking up to meet Minhyun’s eyes.

He smiles. A sense of fragility in honest eyes. “No.”

“Where are you?”

“A few blocks away. At the corner of Jong-ro and Dongho-ro.” Something in him breaks. “I’m sorry. But thank you for being able to see me.” He says, leaning forward to press his lips against Seongwoo’s cheek who’s desperately trying not to fall apart, trying to keep the tears from falling. A ghost of it. His imagination convinces him it’s more than just air. His vision blurs as he tries to hit the right buttons on his phone. Voice shakes as it rings through.

“There’s an accident at the corner of Jong-ro and Dongho-ro,” Seongwoo says hurriedly into the receiver, grabbing his coat, and running out into the cold winter night.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Snow drifts slowly, with the elegance of a flower petal falling to their resting place upon the ground. A gentle scene if not for the man sprawled upon the ground, crimson staining the white.

“No,” Seongwoo gasps, falling to his knees, hands shaking Minhyun’s frame. “No.”

Sirens blare in the distance. The scene is tinged in flashing reds and blues few moments afterwards. Stranger’s hands reach for him, grabbing him by the arm to pry him from his lover’s side and Seongwoo fights back. It’s only then does he notice the lacquered box. He grabs it before someone successfully pries him away.

The “are you his guardian?” goes ignored ( spare for the small nod he gives on reflex ) as he studies the simple box. It isn’t heavy. He opens the lock. Held between two cushions is a simple golden band.

Seongwoo’s hands shake.

 

 

 

“Cut!” Director Yoon’s voice rings out. The fan gets shut off and the artificial snow stops raining down on the scene below. Minhyun sits up, a smile dancing upon his lips. Seongwoo bows on instinct, trying to blink away his tears as he snaps the box shut.

Right, Seongwoo reminds himself. It was Hajun, Minhyun’s role, which just died in the car accident. It was Hajun, Kwon Hyunki’s lover, who ended up dead trying to celebrate a birthday and launch a surprise. It was Hajun, the one whom Seongwoo’s character loves — grateful the curse of seeing finally has some use. Snap out of it, Seongwoo scolds himself.

“Well done,” the director praises, hand clasping Seongwoo’s shoulder as Seongwoo bows respectfully. “I knew casting you was the right choice.” He then turns to Minhyun. “Not bad either but —” the director begins as he steers Minhyun away, discussing ways to improve out of ear shot.

 

 

 

Seongwoo returns the prop, about to leave when his co-actor catches up with him.

“I envy you,” Minhyun says with a kind smile, “Director Yoon wouldn’t stop complimenting your acting the entire time he was talking to me.”

Seongwoo laughs. “He should say it to my face.”

“He said he didn’t want to inflate your ego,” Minhyun retorts easily.

“We all need a boost to our self esteem occasionally,” Seongwoo argues. “Besides,” Seongwoo begins, shoving his hands into his pockets to hide the curl of nervousness in the pit of his stomach, “if it weren’t for you I probably wouldn’t have digested the emotions so well.”

The pink that tinges cheeks and the red that flushes the tips of ears that Seongwoo spies from beneath his bangs makes it worth it. He looks up and flashes a grin.

Minhyun laughs. Short, clipped. Embarrassment still clear on his face. “A return compliment would seem pale in comparison, an act done out of courtesy. But I mean it when I say that I consider you to be a great actor. My heart broke the moment your face fell.”

Seongwoo swallows, throat suddenly dry, at a loss for words.

“Teach me a few tips next time,” Minhyun says with a smile before giving Seongwoo a wave as he rushes off.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

He stands there, expression sheepish as he smiles at Seongwoo, trying not to wring his hands but it shows anyway.

Seongwoo — wait, no, Kwon Hyunki — forgets about the pouring rain, the umbrella to his side, as he rushes out. The car door slams behind him as he makes his way to the man standing at the curb. Seongwoo’s hair is plastered to his head ; the other man remains dry. Seongwoo reaches out to cup his face but his fingers find nothing to hold.

“Why are you here?” he chokes out, trying to blink through the rain.

The man just smiles.

“Let’s get in the car. Get warmed up,” Seongwoo says.

 

 

 

The car is parked somewhere along the Gangnam River. It really doesn’t matter as long as the scene looks beautiful when captured on the camera. Minhyun sits in the passenger seat; flawless, makeup and hair redone in a way that makes him seem untouched by the previous scene. Seongwoo on the other hand has his once gelled hair mostly in his face, clothes damp and clinging to his frame.

The director’s loud _action_ and the clap of the slate board prompts Seongwoo to say his first line.

His eyes search Minhyun’s. “How are you still here? Normally…” Seongwoo trails off as scripted, clenching his fist, giving space for editors to toy with this moment. Insert a flashback perhaps. Or maybe just keep it silent, allow the information to seep into the audience as they recall earlier scenes where the dead are taken to the afterlife and Hyunki is merely an unfortunate soul with the ability to see those which humans do not normally see. An eye with the ability to see both the dark and the light.

“I slipped away from them when I could.”

Seongwoo’s fingers tighten, nails biting into the palm of his hand, leaving crescents behind. “The longer you stay the harder it is for you to leave.” The words come out harsher than he had intended them to be. He closes his eyes. Ample time for editors to flash back to Hyunki’s chilidhood. The spirits who stay long enough. The ones that become corrupted. The ones where the darkness swallows the light they used to possess. “So please,” Seongwoo’s voice cracks as he opens his eyes to face Minhyun ( Hajun ) again, “figure out what’s keeping you here and go onto your next life.”

The smile on Minhyun’s face is heartbreaking as he reaches out to touch Seongwoo’s cheek. “I missed you.”

 

 

 

The scene gets retaken three more times as per Director Yoon’s orders. The last bit of Seongwoo’s lines too unstable to be used and Seongwoo apologizes to the entire staff and to Minhyun for the amount of extra time they spend at the scene trying to obtain perfection. It’s cold, adding another extra layer of guilt. But Minhyun forgives him easily and Seongwoo feels a bit better about it.

“Just treat me to food, Seongwoo-ah,” Minhyun says after stretching.

Seongwoo clicks his tongue. “I regret allowing you to use banmal with me.”

Minhyun laughs. “You started it. Approached me during the script reading and pointed out our age. Don’t shove the blame on me.”

Seongwoo juts out his lower lip in response.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

It’s Seongwoo’s individual take. More instances of Hyunki’s everyday life and his encounters with spirits. Except this time it takes a darker turn: items topple and crash as he runs through the aisles to avoid being slammed by a falling bookshelf. Some spirit, one with a darker soul, is out for his blood and Hyunki has to scramble to figure out which one he managed to accidentally piss off. He comes up with nothing. Continues to spring because no one has yelled _cut_ yet and curses the director internally.

The director sits in front of the monitor, chin resting on the back of his hand, fingers toying with a pen held between them as he studies Seongwoo running across the scene with a smile. Minhyun is beside him, leaning forward, brows furrowed in concentration as he watches the same thing on screen.

Seongwoo almost forgets about the way his lungs are trying to collapse upon him and the way his knees are about to give out from shooting this exact same scene twice when he sees Minhyun dabbing his forehead with a tissue. He probably just got off his own set.

“Cut!” the director yells, waving aggressively at Seongwoo who has now bent over, clutching his knees for support as he pants. “You’re supposed to look straight ahead when you run! What are you doing looking to the side?”

“Sorry,” Seongwoo apologizes between breaths. He looks up, only to find Minhyun’s concerned glance. He burns. Seongwoo tugs at the front of his shirt to hopefully cool himself down, avoiding Minhyun’s eyes ( avoiding the way it seems to almost sparkle in this light ).

“He was really satisfied with it,” Minhyun supplements when the director had turned towards the staff, asking them to re-set up the scene again.

“Up until the point I botched it,” Seongwoo retorts, nodding his head in gratitude as he reaches for the bottle Minhyun had so kindly supplied.

“Still usable with editing. Besides,” Minhyun says, lips curling into a smirk, “it doesn’t seem like you can do another take after this.”

Seongwoo scowls. “Good to know you have so little faith in me.”

 

Minhyun was right, of course. They ended up using the second take in the end as Director Yoon shook his head, hands upon hips, as he watched Seongwoo disintegrate into the ground.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Minhyun’s hands are on Seongwoo’s hips, chin digging into his left shoulder, fingers circling the expanse of skin under his shirt. Seongwoo’s breath hitches as he squirms, almost forgetting his lines as he reaches to remove them. But one hand is preoccupied with a toothbrush so it’s a losing battle.

“Stop it, Hajun,” Seongwoo ( Hyunki ) scolds, after rinsing his mouth clean and turning around, “I’ll start locking the door behind me.”

Minhyun — Hajun, damn it Seongwoo — gasps, mock offended. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“Try me.”

Minhyun leans forward, crowding him against the sink, and leans forward to peck his lips.

 

 

 

It ends as quickly as it happened with a _cut!_

“Excellent work, both of you,” the director praises with a clap of his hand.

Minhyun backs away, expression almost embarrassed as he apologizes quickly. Seongwoo finds himself missing the proximity and the warmth.

“No worries,” Seongwoo says with a laugh, “it’s work after all.”

“Right,” Minhyun answers, “of course.”

Seongwoo thinks he hears it all wrong because it sounds brusque. Before he can dwell on it, the director calls them to prepare for the next scene. An entire day dedicated to demonstrating the strength of Hajun and Hyunki’s relationship. This was just the first scene. It was going to be a long day.

 

 

 

Minhyun’s touch still lingers from where the pads of his fingers had dragged across Seongwoo’s skin.

And here he is again, approaching, with a beatific smile upon his face. All the makeup has been removed. The sponsored clothes shed and returned to their hanger on the rack. Hair mussed up because they were finally allowed to toy with it after hours of not being able to. There are tired circles under eyes, an indication about the amount of sleep they’ve gotten in the past week. And yet, despite all this, Minhyun looks better like this than when he wears the mask of Seo Hajun.

“Good work today,” Minhyun greets that Seongwoo echoes.

“Do you have time today to run over some lines?” Minhyun asks, eyes earnest — in a way that makes Seongwoo believe he’s the only one on planet Earth on the receiving end of such a look. “After dinner of course.”

And how could Seongwoo say no?

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 _I only ever wanted you_.

The words resound in Seongwoo’s mind. Lips were so close to his ear it sent a shiver down his spine and coiled in the pit of his stomach from the way it was whispered. Hands were over his own, warmth radiating from his palm, as they were guided to press against his heart.

This was the moment of revelation. Hajun had already gone beyond the point of return, tried to get Hyunki to join him, urging him to drive the needle deep into his heart.

Seongwoo’s glad for small mercies like how this was only an unofficial run through, how he was far from the set, far from the cameras that capture every emotion that runs across his face. Hyunki, like Seongwoo, would have done it. But here he didn’t have to be Hyunki, didn’t have to face a camera, didn’t have to show the realization dawning upon him or the surrender to love. Here, he let his gaze trail Minhyun, capture the contours of his face — both the perfection and the blemishes — because he probably won’t get another chance to be this close again.

“What?” Minhyun had asked after noticing, brows furrowing, “am I not delivering right?”

“No,” Seongwoo had said, shaking his head fervently. “You were doing it too well.”

And the way Minhyun had smiled, the way his cheeks had been dusted with pink, the way he threw his head back and laughed with a hint of embarrassment had made Seongwoo’s chest tight with a sense of warmth he couldn’t put his finger on.

He smiled in return, unable to wipe the fondness from his face.

 

 

 

 _I only ever wanted you_.

The words resound in Seongwoo’s mind. And never before had he found himself this unprofessional, unable to divorce the lingering emotions coming the role he plays from himself, being caught up in this tangle and being pulled under by it.

Seongwoo leans back, allowing the bed to catch his wait as he stares at the plain white ceiling above him.

Never before had anyone managed to stir something within him. Not like this. Especially not a costar.

The scene they had practiced was the last one to be filmed. They are a week out from this movie being wrapped up in terms of filming.

Seongwoo closes his eyes.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 _I only ever wanted you_.

The five words that haunt him. The five words that won’t allow him to rest.

Seongwoo meets Minhyun’s eyes through the mirror as Minhyun gets his hair done for the final scene. He smiles and so does Seongwoo who leans against the wall, arms folded as he watches Minhyun get ready.

The part of him that had always despised rumors of costars dating after working together and called them out for their inability in distinguishing between their feelings and their characters’ wants to walk away. Screw a lid on it so that the butterflies can do nothing more than flutter around before inevitably perishing. But the other part of him recognizes the signs and symptoms and can clearly highlight the portions that solely belong to Hyunki and the portions that belong to Seongwoo. They aren’t the same.

The giddiness of love, the formula for chemicals, can be similar but the reasons behind the attraction isn’t.

So Seongwoo sets the butterflies free and takes a step closer.

“May I?” he asks with a smile and the noona who was in the midst of fixing Minhyun’s hair vacates the space, placing her tools into Seongwoo’s hands.

“Switching careers?” Minhyun teases as he sits up straight.

Seongwoo walks to the front of Minhyun, bending down to begin his work with a brush in one hand and the hair dryer in the other. “You sound nervous. Relax. I do this all the time.”

Except Minhyun seems to stiffen when Seongwoo leans in closer. Seongwoo finds his lips curling. Minhyun fidgets. It would have been barely noticeable if Seongwoo was further away but he wasn’t. He just smiles, amused, watching Minhyun who looks up to meet his eyes.

It’s precarious. Seongwoo who had walked himself into the possibility of exposure with a chest so close to Minhyun’s ear that he might hear the rapid beating of Seongwoo’s heart.

The tips of Minhyun’s ears are red.

Seongwoo’s throat has been dry for the last couple of minutes so he swallows before plastering one of those cocky smiles upon his lips despite not knowing where the confidence comes from.

He leans forward, lips a centimeter away from Minhyun’s when he says: “When this is over, why don’t you consider going on a date with me?”

He pulls away, admiring his handiwork for a moment, heart skipping a beat at the way the ears have turned bright red.

There’s a small nod, barely noticeable, but Seongwoo’s smile grows so wide Jisung has to tell him to take five after consecutive NGs.

**Author's Note:**

> i butchered the prompt at the very end. if i had more time this might be woven into my 14 years ; 4th ( &final ) try au but we shall see. it wasn't supposed to be fluffy. wasn't supposed to be anything really but i go on a writing hiatus and all of a sudden i lose my words. i'm so sorry for whatever this is. this prompt deserves better.


End file.
